


Later

by Grimmy88



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmy88/pseuds/Grimmy88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the apocalypse, Nick and Ellis have some things to decide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Later

            There was a car occupying the left side of his driveway by the time he got home that night. A black Cadillac; it was a car he’d become acquainted with a year prior for a few days. It was as pristine now as then which wasn’t that much of a surprise.

            Nick had always been immaculate to the point of possible OCD, the apocalypse non-withstanding.

            Ellis opened the garage but parked his truck on the spare space of the driveway, intending to let the more expensive vehicle take the spot inside. When he got to the back door of his house he paused, regarding the lights inside, attempting to guess which room was occupied and how much time he’d have to prepare himself.

            He was covered in a nice layer of visible dirt and grime though, so the thought was pretty silly now that he was there with his hand hesitating over his own doorknob. Besides, hard work was never something he avoided and never something to be embarrassed about.

            So he fixed his hat and went inside.

            The TV was on in his den so Nick had probably wanted to use the computer. Last time he’d been watching in the living room when the mechanic had returned home. There were TV’s all over the house from which to choose, really though Ellis usually watched TV up in his room. He’d been asked why he hadn’t moved things once and he hadn’t had an answer other than that his mother had set up the house and it had made it through all the terror and the years after so he figured it must’ve been for a reason. And truthfully the fact that it was now _his_ house still had yet to sink in.

            Shutting the door behind him brought Bull, his Great Dane, trotting to him. Ellis put a hand behind each ear, listening to Nick’s trailing footsteps.

            He was dressed comfortably which for the older man meant slacks and a dress shirt. This one was a deep red and per the norm open a few buttons at his collar.

            “Hey.”

            Ellis stood and wiped his hands, to Bull’s dismay. “Hey. I opened the garage if y’wanna pull the caddy in.”

            “Well, yeah, it was a nice drive, kid; thanks for asking!”

            “Don’t be’a smartass; ya didn’t even gimme a call’ta lemme know y’were gonna be here.” His grin came easy then. “An’ no complainin’ ‘bout dinner ‘cause’a that, either.”

            Nick returned the gesture and then moved to circumvent the dog. He went to pull the southerner into a hug and then stopped with a familiar wrinkle to his face. “Yeah, for the record, I made the effort.” He scooped his keys from the counter and promptly went outside.

            Ellis went to wash his hands in the meantime, watching from the window above the sink as the lights spread the dark and then were quickly distinguished with the engine’s cut and then hidden by the lowered garage door. Nick’s face, lined with annoyance based on disgust, had looked more tired than usual. He knew what five years had done to it: there were new wrinkles and lines and some of the hair at his temples was silver but that didn’t mean he wasn’t good looking. He aged like he’d been made with it in mind.

            Still in his twenties, Ellis had yet to see how age would warp his own face. He’d probably end up bald and fat and maybe unrecognizable, especially if he took after his grandfather.

            He turned quickly before his friend’s return to make a show of looking through the pantry for some sort of dinner. Though, to be honest, he’d been dead set on the ease of mac ‘n cheese his entire drive home.

            Nick locked the door behind his reentrance and allowed the dog to bump around his legs as if he’d been gone for an hour instead of a minute. “Working late?”

            “Juss’ today,” Ellis answered. He left the macaroni where it was. “Had stuff we wanted’ta get measured an’ planned out fer Monday.”

            The destruction to Savannah had been vast and when the time had come to rebuild it had meant a multitude of jobs. Too many, actually; Ellis had started up fixing cars again—trucks mostly because of their benefits in reconstruction. It was through such a truck fix-up that one of his customers had asked if he’d ever worked in construction.

            He hadn’t but he’d been damn good in shop class.

            It had turned out plenty of their recruits had similar qualifications so he’d been able to help. He probably would have lived comfortably enough with the constant repairs he and his new crew commissioned but that didn’t mean the rest of Savannah could.

            So while he worked at the garage most days he would always stop over and see what houses or stores, or any place, needed him to lend a hammer. One of those houses had been his focus for the second half of his day today.

            “Still a little hero.”

            Ellis just gave him a look from under his brow that came just as easily as the disarming smirk returned at him.

            “Alright, what do you have that I can make?” He shoved his way to the pantry, wrinkling his forehead at the display. “You still live off cereal, don’t you?”

            “Only when I gotta actually make my own food.” Most nights he was getting free meals from places he’d helped rebuild.

            Nick presented a box of linguine. “Got any sauce for this?”

            The mechanic shook his head.

            The northerner only gave it a second of thought before pulling out his bottle of olive oil. “Okay, we might be fine, I think I saw a bag of frozen shrimp ‘cause I’m a genius and knew you were going to be useless. Tell me you have red pepper and garlic.”

            Ellis shrugged.

            Nick mimicked him. “Would you fuck off and go shower already? You’re not helping and smell like shit.”

            “Some’a us don’t bathe in cologne,” the younger man dodged the deke teased at him with a compulsive laugh.

            “Some’a us _should_ , you little asshat.”

            “Asshat?” Ellis stuck his head back around to peer into the kitchen.

            “I smell _good_. Never got a complaint before.” He gave a knowing look and his host shrunk back, slow to process and unsure how to respond.

            Nick had been gone a year. It hadn’t been a complete absence: the cell towers had long since been reestablished and they each had computers that they used to stay in touch. Hell, they even Skyped! But there had been physical distance between them for a year, and prior to that shared time a year as well.

            They’d slept together the last visit, too. They’d done as much during each of his visits when they were more frequent the three years following their first meeting.

            Well except the one visit two years ago around the time Ellis’ mom had passed. It had been a small ceremony and the three people who had proved to be just as important to him as she had been came. Coach had stayed a few days, Rochelle a week, and Nick a good month.

            A month of just simply being near each other. Funnily enough they hadn’t talked about much. Not in the literal sense, of course, they talked all the time for as much as they were opposites. Getting them to shut up was the trick.

            The problem was all that talking never seemed to be the important stuff.

            A year ago when he’d come again they had resumed their, well, their relationship without fanfare. Ellis supposed it wasn’t shocking and he’d been glad for it, even if he was more confused than anything.

            It had been a comforting behavior during the apocalypse. It had been started by jittery touches and unsure presses of their bodies. Ellis had guessed it may have been Nick’s first encounter with another man, too…well, until they reached a quarantine zone. He’d known exactly what to do there when they’d been properly ‘equipped.’

            All of it had been something Ellis had never thought he’d do. There’s was a relationship straight out of some trashy romance novel. Or, well, he guessed it was; he’d never really read one, but that’s how they went, right? An on-going fling that turned into something more. A story that had been done by books and movies, and the ones that stuck with you the best were the ones that didn’t work out. Those were the award winners.

            But it had been nice with Nick. It would be nice with him living there in Savannah, even though he could be a guy more like the ones in those sadder stories a lot of the time. ‘Cause sometimes he needed some sense and decency knocked into him.

            His phone tucked deeply in his pocket began buzzing. He answered to Rochelle’s tired, but happy, voice. “Hey, Ellis. How’s it going?”

            Her calls were a weekly affair depending on whether or not they’d seen each other. She did the same with Coach but he wasn’t too sure about Nick. Still, it was nice to have someone else who wanted to keep that connection constant, though he knew it wasn’t fair to think like that—Coach was busy with his school most of the time and texts worked just as well for Ellis.

            “Hey, Ro. Everythin’s fine. What about’chyou?”

            “Same, just a long day Wanna get dinner Sunday?”

            “Well,” Ellis said and glanced around his room as if she was actually there staring at him. “Maybe…”

            A moment stretched. “So Nick’s there?”

            “Yeah.”

            “That’s nice. Do you know how long he’s staying?”

            The mechanic rolled his eyes though felt bad about it almost immediately. Rochelle had always been too perceptive and skillfully subtle all at once. Not only had she known about their relationship before Ellis had admitted it to her in an act of trust, she’d actively been supporting it.

            She’d never wanted to be too nosy or vocal about it, she was just there with the knowledge and it was nice to have a female figure to do that for him again.

            “Naw, juss’ walked in the door. I’mma shower an’ I think he’s makin’ some kind’a pasta.”

            “At least he’s domesticated,” her smile was a bright one, he knew. She had one of the prettiest, after all.

            “I’ll tell ‘im that.”

            “He deserves it after not returning my texts.”

            “He’s gotta excuse: he was drivin’.”

            “Honey, don’t be naïve.”

            Ellis laughed. “I’ll tell’im ta text ya.” Then he paused, flicking a strand of fabric on his blanket with the tip of his finger. “I hope he stays fer a while again, though.”

            “Me too,” she agreed, “that way I’ll actually know where he is for once.” They shared another laugh. “Well, I’ll let you go. Call me when you get a chance; I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

            “Real funny. G’night.”

 

 

            The dinner looked and smelled delicious. Obviously Ellis had had non-expired frozen shrimp because the giant pasta bowl was filled with noodles and the curved, pink creatures. The olive oil gave the linguine an appetizing shine flecked only by the red pepper.

            Nick had already taken his own bowl to the living room where he was watching some show. As soon as Ellis helped himself to his own giant bowl he was plopping down next to the conman and swiping the remote.

            “Did you seriously just put cartoons on? Aren’t you too old for this now?”

            “Ain’t ever too old fer Simpsons reruns, an’ I wouldn’t be talkin’ ‘bout age.”

            He was given a snort but there was no attempt at a snarky response for once. The remainder of their meal went as thus, even their seconds. Then Ellis got up to load anything dirty in the dishwasher. Nick joined him just as he closed the door.

            “You work tomorrow?”

            “No,” the southerner replied. “Don’t gotta work again ‘til Monday, but y’kin stay after that anyway.” He’d casted his eyes to the dog who was gobbling up his own dinner before the sentence had finished leaving his mouth. It was a subconscious move but one he couldn’t take back.

            When the silence prompted him to look up Nick’s eyes were there. His guest promptly blinked away their intenseness and let then his shoulders go lax. He nodded to himself, and then again like someone doing a double check. “Well, you can show me all the progress you guys made tomorrow.”

            “Sure… remember the gun store?”

            “That jackass made it, didn’t he?”

            Ellis grinned. “Whitaker. He set the store back up an’ everythin’. He was real happy’ta meet me’n Ro.”

            “You didn’t mention him last time.”

            “He was outta town seein’ his family so I guess I forgot. He’s lucky an’ they all made it. He said he was in quarantine fer a lot longer’n we were, too.”

            Nick’s lips curved. “I should go see him to thank him for the gun to be polite, I’m assuming?”

            “Y’still have the gun, don’tchya?”

            “Of course I fucking do.”

 

 

            Whitaker knew Nick right from his first word. “Yer the one who threatened to withhold my cola.”

            Ellis laughed, hunched over by the suddenness of it.

            The conman sneered but more at himself, it seemed. “You wanted me to get you some drinks in an alarm-rigged store. What were you gonna do: tear down your barricade and take the guns away?” He held out his hand. “Nick.”

             The old man eyed him but discarded the look for an easy smile. His knuckles whitened as he squeezed the offered palm. “Whitaker, of course. I’m glad the situation worked out for us.”

             “I really thought you were dead since you stayed.” The northerner looked to Ellis. “But then again I’m constantly told I’m pessimistic.”

             “From what I heard that sounds ‘bout right.”

             The mechanic made a preventative but unnecessary side step from Nicks’ accusatory glare.

             “It seems like the ones who locked themselves in were the ones quarantined longer.”

             Nick huh’d at that. “They thought you were susceptible because you hadn’t had any contact?”

             “That’s what we were told, eventually. They had to make some kind of vaccine?” That had come from either the immune or a carrier, Ellis knew but didn’t.

             The conman glanced around the store. “Seems like you picked back up just fine, though.”

             Whitaker spared a glance, too. “Unfortunately not enough of my guns were taken to run me out of business. Even so, most people own quite a few so I give lessons, too.”

             “Did you have a lot of damage?”

             “Certainly not as much as the other stores, or the mall for that matter! But Ellis and another fellow came and fixed—just a few things really, some doors and cabinets, a few things in storage…”

              Nick looked to him, then. “Did you retrace our steps to rebuild?”

              “Naw, the hotel burned down,” Ellis recalled. “An’ y’know I worked in the mall, already.”

              “What about Kiddieland?” His friend’s face split into one of his nice-looking but conniving grins. “Did you tell Whitaker about all the fun in Kiddieland?”

 

 

               They hesitated around the horse statue. This was a walk they’d taken several times since their first mad dash through in 2009. It was currently the home to the park but also a few small, but good and clean, restaurants had popped up in the perimeter, one of which was their destination. The pair had driven, then walked, to see the progress of the city—areas they had traversed in the apocalypse and others they hadn’t—the one commonality shared was that Ellis had worked on them all.

               They paused at the break of the hedge as if still nervous a decaying body would greet them with a bone-breaking lunge if they went around too quickly.

               “Looks like it did before,” Nick said, though he’d only seen very little of the city before its degeneration.

               “Almost,” Ellis agreed anyway.

               They were only a few people seated in the restaurant. Their table was near the windows and even after their drinks were delivered and orders taken Nick stared often at the day and its coloring on Savannah.

               “Is it better up north, too?” Ellis asked. He was sure other towns and cities had rebuilt just as well as his had but maybe they weren’t as pretty. Maybe they had less to offer than his. He let those thoughts trail.

               Nick cleared his throat and gave him an unfocused quirk of his mouth. “Yeah, but things are going good everywhere, I hear. Tons of work means tons of jobs.”

               “Yeah, you got one?”

               Leaning forward, elbows pressing down on their table and shoulders hunched so that he was still able to rest his chin in a hand, the conman eyes peered up at him, eyebrows high enough to line his forehead. “I did. …Things are open for me now.”

               Ellis found himself swallowing. Luckily for his constricting throat their waitress cut the moment apart and then slipped a distraction in front of them: their meals. Nick thanked her and cut into his meat and her response was a smile while leaving them to it with a little spring in her step.

               He’d taken a few good pieces from his entrée before the southerner realized he should follow suit. It served as a point to direct his eyes but he didn’t want his mind to fall into the same cowardly ease. He swallowed a few of his cut squares and then set the silverware down entirely. Then he took a swig of his beer.

               “So you can stay fer a while, then?” He wasn’t as good at keeping his voice uninterested like Nick.

               The way he set down his own utensils but then took a moment before replying hinted that the almost-forty year old wasn’t all that uninterested, though.

               “Or I could just stay.”

               A statement or a question, whether it was supposed to be up to Ellis or not, or maybe Nick had actually been testing the waters for a reaction because one grin led the other. The Savannah-native hadn’t realized he’d gone too long with smiling and not enough nodding or talking until it was clear his partner’s face had morphed into teasing mimicry.

               So Ellis settled for knocking the toe of his shoe into Nick’s shin because they could always talk or not talk about it later.


End file.
